Nescit Cedere
by FlyAway1993
Summary: When Hermione wakes up, slowly regaining her memories, she doesn t know up from down. Muddling through the unknown, the only certainty she has is the constant presence of a handsome, older man by her side. But can he be trusted? Is he her guardian and protector? Or the thing she should fear most in life?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

It wasn't a drawn out process, her waking up. One minute she was lying quite peacefully, unaware of the figure sitting by her bedside, and the next she had her eyes open, trying to blink away the sleep and adjust to the glare of the room. Still unaware of that same figure behind her.

What she could see of her surroundings was very bland. She was facing an impeccably white wall and an empty nightstand. There were no plants, no books, not even last night's clothes lying in a small heap in the corner. The lack of personality in the room made her slightly uneasy. Instinctively, she knew she didn't belong here. She knew that she was a slightly messy person and that she loved vibrant colors.

But then again, she hasn't seen the rest of the room yet. With great difficulty and a lot of perseverance she managed to turn around in her bed and widened her eyes. There was a man sitting in her room. A hospital room, she quickly realized. He was sleeping in an awkward position, with his chin resting on his chest and with hair falling on his forehead. And even though she knew nothing about him, hadn't even seen his face, she felt afraid. Apprehensive maybe, of when he woke up.

Her body kicked into gear, deciding whether to fight or take flight. Her heart rate picked up, the beeping of the machine more frequent and louder in her ear than before. Her muscles spasmed a little, nothing big although she felt the strain. But despite her brain's efforts, she couldn't get up. Worse, the sleeping man seemed to have registered the increased beeping and was stirring in his seat. He opened his eyes and her heart jumped in her throat. She knew him. Those green eyes were branded on her retina. She knew him, and now she knew to be afraid of him.

"Hermione? Oh, my God, you're awake!"

He swooped down on her and took her hands. He kissed her right hand and squeezed it a little bit too hard. He touched her face, looked into her eyes, seemingly not noticing her panicked expression. And she was panicking, because with the remembrance of her name came the deep-rooted knowledge that she was at his mercy. There was no one else who had a bigger say in her life than him, not even she. How did that happen? How could she let another person control her life? It doesn't seem like something she'd allow. And then the real panic set in, as she realized that she didn't know what she'd allow as she didn't know who she was.

"H.. h.. who?" she croaked out. He stopped running his hands over her and strangely, she felt the loss. When he stood up to get a cup of water, she felt bereft.

"Ssshh, don't speak. Here, drink this."

She felt a few rivulets of water trickle into her mouth from a soaked cotton pad the man was squeezing. She tried again, "Who am.. I? You?"

"You mean you don't remember me?" and something sparked in his eyes. "I'm Tom, Tom Riddle, and I've been taking care of you since you were eight. You were wandering the streets of London by yourself when you did something extraordinary and caught my attention. I took you home with me, do you remember?"

Magic, he's talking about magic. She vaguely recalls that moment on the streets; her exhaustion, needing comfort and warmth. She remembers being desperate and.. a warm silver blanket? Or was it a shield? Something against the cold, that unbearable cold, and maybe to help make her feel.. happy again. And then Tom's face. Him taking out a wand and helping her with..

"Magic.."

He leaned over her again, well into her personal space and grinned, "I'm relieved you remember being magical. Not that I ever thought you could forget something you love so much and have such a proficiency for. We are both magical. And you are capable of amazing things, things I taught you.."

His voice fell away, as Hermione was lost in her thoughts. She loved his grin, it transformed his face. It made her recall his kindness in taking her into his home. He clothed her, fed her, taught her about magic and gave her a wand. Her wand!

"Where is my wand?" she interrupted whatever he was saying. He frowned, pulled out her wand and left it on the bedside table. She felt safer with it there, not that she can best him in a duel. Somehow she knows he's more powerful than her.

"I remember bits and pieces, but not what happened to me. Why am I here? This is the hospital, right?" she asked. She almost managed to sit up again when there was a terrible pain in her abdomen. Crying out, reaching for anything to hold on to, she felt his arms around her.

"Shhh, honey. Don't move. Anything you want I can get you, just don't move. Shhh, and let me take the pain away."

Whimpering in his arms, moving her legs to touch her chest in a fetal position, she rocked from left to right. Or at least, as much as his arms allowed her to rock. She felt surprisingly safe and the pain started ebbing away. She must have been mistaken earlier; her initial fear for him doesn't add up with the man she's discovering. He has shown her nothing but kindness from the moment she woke up and the things she remembered all spoke in his favor. It's probably because she was out of it, but now that she is beginning to get her bearings again, she's rethinking her reaction to Tom.

"Th..Thank you. It's better now. I remember some things about you, but not much. Did I call you Dad?"

"No! No, you called me Tommy when you were little and Tom as you grew older" He started stroking her arms leaving a tingling sensation on the places he's been. When he held both her cheeks in his hands and brought his face close she was taken aback, thinking the gesture was too intimate but backtracking immediately. He was her guardian after all, and for all intents and purposes, her father.

"Thank God you're awake and here with me again. I'm just going to check if everything is okay and then we'll see what we're going to do next, alright honey?"

He took out his wand and whispered _malum revelio _and her body began to tingle. From head to toe, every inch of her body briefly exuded light only to die out again, except for her abdomen. Tom was frowning worriedly at her belly when he flicked his wand again, this time saying _gravidus mendosus revelio_ and nothing happened. He sighed in relief and performed one final spell. The pain was instant and unbearable. Hermione arched her back in the air and let out a scream, her eyes rolling back and her feet kicking out every which way.

"Honey, I had to do that. I'm sorry, but a ligament was ruptured and I had to fix it with a rudimental, crude spell. Fuck, I'm sorry, here drink this" handing her a potion. She nodded gratefully and opened her mouth. His eyes darkened when he saw her full lips parting, pouring the liquid efficiently in her mouth. For the second time in a space of a few moments, he took her pain away.

Without much energy left, Hermione let herself go limp in Tom's lap as he seated himself on her bed. When he saw her wincing a little after twitching his elbow, he decided to just lie in the bed and drape her over him. The relief Hermione felt at the contact was amazing, considering her initial fear and reservations. Not caring anymore, and with every part of her body touching his, Hermione snuggled her face into Tom's neck. "Don't let the healers wake me, Tom. Just let me rest, safe in your arms." And then she fell asleep.

What she didn't see, was Tom's calculating look as he was figuring out what to do next.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

When she woke up again, Tom was reading beside a table containing a steaming bowl of soup, some toast, glasses of juice and water and a tray full of potions and pills. Immediately intrigued by the book she tried to decipher the title, but the effort was wasted. So her gaze travelled up Tom's form, and she noted that he was still wearing the same clothes and by now a faint stubble had developed on his face. Travelling further upwards, she saw that the streaks of grey at his temple did nothing to lessen his attractiveness. On the contrary, it gave him a more distinguished air. All in all, she couldn't believe he was well into his forties. Hermione took the time to really look at him and felt the full blast of his appeal work at her nerves. She must have stirred or sighed, as he looked up from his book and looked straight into her eyes, catching her staring.

Embarrassed, Hermione blushed a sweet pink, lowered her eyes to the floor and started fidgeting with her hands, turning away from him. She felt Tom approach and tensed up. When he took hold of her and turned her face to his, she didn't meet his eyes.

"Look at me."

But she couldn't, because just now she felt a strange stirring in her body, a flare-up that seemed familiar. Has she felt this before? Was she attracted to Tom before her illness whatever it was? What would Tom think of her if he knew? Did he already have an inkling? Shocked, her body awakened more. Her lips parted, her eyes opened wide, she blushed a bright red, her heart raced and her stomach ached.

"Look. At. Me." When she finally did, her legs quivered at the look on his face. His eyes, brilliant green, were smoldering at her. His being was focused entirely on her and she could detect a faint crackle of magic in the air. The picture he presented was overwhelming, with his beauty, his power and the somewhat menacing look in his eyes. He took both her hands in his.

"Don't turn your back on me. Don't ever deny what you're feeling and thinking. And don't try to hide anything from me. I can read you like a book, Hermione, and I do not take kindly to being lied to, even by omission. I think you know that from our past together even if you don't remember everything."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just.. I can't really.. explain.. I'm sorry, Tom"

"What is on your mind, baby? Just say it."

What she wouldn't give for an interruption right now. Where were the healers and nurses, anyway? As far as she could tell, no one has checked up on her besides Tom. This was St. Mungo's, wasn't it?

"Can I talk to my healer? I think I have a few questions about my recovery and I want to know why I'm in here in the first place."

He stepped back and the look on his face shuttered closed. "You're not in the hospital. You're in my home, our home. I don't know what happened to you physically. You were gone for awhile and a week ago you showed up in the gazebo, worse for wear and in a coma. I took you to the guest room, because it's close to mine and it enabled me to keep a better eye on you."

"So you have been taking care of me? And where did I go when I left? Why did I leave?"

He smiled at her and she melted. "You'll never change do you? You'll always be inquisitive. As for your questions, you had a mishap experimenting with a new curse and you disappeared to I don't know where, right in front of my eyes. I thought I had lost you forever." He took her in his arms, "You can't imagine the grief I felt when you disappeared and how relieved I was when you came back."

When he was speaking, she saw actual pain in his eyes so she hugged him tightly around his waist. "I won't leave again. I'm home, Tom. And I'm here to stay. Thank you for taking care of me and I'm sorry for all the worry you felt on my behalf." She glided her hands up his back until they reached his shoulders, subconsciously caressing every inch of him she came across. He stiffened his spine and leaned back to look at her; questioning, piercing. And then he leaned in and touched his lips to hers.

It was an exquisite shock, like nothing she ever felt before. Or had she? Something about the way his lips felt resonated deep within her. As if that part of her recognized the feeling. He was still peppering closemouthed kisses from one corner of her mouth to the other when she relaxed against him and began to kiss him back. He took her upper lip between his and sucked on it, sending tingles to Hermione's lower abdomen. When he rasped his teeth against her lip and bit down, a little shock went to the same place and she gasped. He slipped his tongue inside and massaged her until she was whimpering. His mouth slanted open over hers, sucking on her lips while moving his tongue in circles.

Hermione didn't think about his age, couldn't think even if she wanted to. Because with all his experience, Tom set out to seduce her twenty-year old self and she didn't stand a chance.

"Oh.. oh.. mhhhmm" and she couldn't break away as her body was molded to his. She was feeling lightheaded, needed air badly, but she couldn't bear to stop the kiss. But he knew, and retracted his tongue only to lick her jaw while she sucked in a big gulp of air.

"N..No, wait. More" she whispered, and tried to pull his mouth back to hers. He wouldn't have it and continued on his path to her ear leaving wet traces on her face. When he reached her ear, she moaned. The feelings she felt were indescribable. A blink and he was sucking her neck making his way to her breasts. Her spinning mind screeched to a halt trying to reorganize, and she pulled back.

"You're mine, Hermione." Kiss. "Listen to your body." Suck. "Give in." Lick.

And then he reached the low cut edge of her worn top. "Stop. Please, wait."

He pulled up again, looking in her eyes, and she went on, "We can't do this.. this is wrong. You raised me, you're like a father to me. We can't.. And the age difference"

"You're wrong, I've never been your father. You're father was a worthless animal who left you to rot on the streets. I have always been more. And you've been mine all this time. As a child, a teen and a woman, you've been mine. And age has never meant anything between us. Don't deny this, or me. I love you, want to fuck you, do unspeakable things to you and I dare you to tell me you don't want that too."

She had tears in her eyes, filled with denial and shame. She let her gaze drop to the floor and quickly thought about her options. After a second's deliberation, the food completely forgotten, she grabbed her wand from the table and apparated to her own room at the end of the corridor. Thank God she's slowly but steadily getting her memories back.

Before she fell on her bed she felt a slight pull on her body. She shrugged it off and turned down the blankets. In the other room, satisfied with how his _Homenum Revelio_ turned out, Tom put his wand back in his pocket.

That night Hermione dreamt of Tom picking her up and taking her home, bathing her, cooking for her, reading to her and teaching her about magic. She saw him watching a smaller version of her with indulgence and pride, kissing her, hugging her and giving her compliments when she accomplished another task. She dreamt of sleeping in his bed when she was scared, or when she was sad about her parents, of him telling her not to miss them because she deserved better and hugging her close until they both fell asleep. She saw him kissing her scrapes and bruises when she was a little bit too adventurous in the garden, but most importantly, she saw him love and care for her.

When she woke up, she ran to the bathroom and tossed all her cookies.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Thank God she remembered where the lavatory was. With a door opening into her bedroom, this bathroom was just for her, decorated in blues, beiges and whites. An enormous tub sat proudly at the center and huge, fluffy towels were draped over the radiator. Various bottles and products were lined on a shelf underneath a largish mirror. But she didn't register anything about her surroundings. The only thing demanding her attention was the toilet, waiting innocently in the corner.

She felt awful and couldn't believe her misfortune. She hadn't even eaten anything and she was throwing up her stomach's contents. Pure acid burned up her esophagus and choked the breath out of her. Without warning, she felt Tom's hands in her hair, pulling it away from her face and soothing her by gently massaging her scalp. He must have heard her somehow.

"Leave. D..Don't look."

But he stayed anyway to witness her humiliation. Rubbing her back now, he whispered a few soothing words. He sent shivers down her spine, upsetting her stomach even more and making her retch again.

When it was finally over, Hermione took a deep breath and let out a quiet "fuck". Standing up to rinse her mouth and brush her teeth, she knew she was grimy and in need of a shower.

"Can I take a quick shower?" she asked Tom and he nodded and left the bathroom. Stepping under the water spray she lathered up her entire body with a generous dollop of soap and shampooed her hair twice. Man, it was great to feel human again.

She dried herself off and combed her unruly hair, putting it up in a high bun with tendrils curling loosely around it. Her hair needed hairspray to keep it tamed, but thankfully she found some on the shelf. Feeling better, she opened the door a crack and asked Tom to hand her some clothes. After putting on the underwear, skirt and top he gave her, she entered the bedroom a new person and went to sit in a comfy chair by the window.

Immediately, Tom picked up the familiar tray of potions and pills and came over.

"What are all these?" she said, taking from him the vial containing a bright purple liquid.

"Cures, to get you healthy again. The purple's for calming the newly healed ligament, the blue's for the muscle weakness, and the rest are for general aches."

"And the pills?"

"Those are for building up strength. Regular vitamins and protein supplements. Take them, honey."

"Okay", and she felt better when she did. "I remember a few things. I remember the first years I spent with you. From when you found me when I was eight until I was fourteen or fifteen. I love you, Tom, and I can't thank you enough. You were there for me when I was all alone and gave me everything I needed. Just like you're doing now." and she reached out her arms and beckoned for him to hug her, liking his expression when she told him she loved him. After he pulled back, he crouched in front of her.

"But why didn't I go to school? You were so busy with your job, you didn't need the burden of my education."

"Because I knew I could teach you more than any institute in the world would. And my job wasn't my priority, you were."

"Your own a shop, right? Selling magical artifacts? I don't think I've ever been to it."

His face shuttered closed again. "No, you haven't, because it's too dangerous. I deal with a lot of disgruntled customers and I don't want you to get caught in the crossfire." Her heart melted a little. He was so protective of her, always thinking about her welfare. The amazing years he gave her ran through her head. She owed this man everything. Was there a limit to his kindness? She had to show him how grateful she was.

Looking into his eyes, she touched his jaw with both hands. Touching the stubble, loving the scrape, her face morphed into an earnest expression as she whispered her gratitude.

"Then show me, Hermione. Show me by not denying what's between us."

Overcome with love and attraction, or maybe lust, she complied. When he leaned closer to her, almost hovering over her in the chair, she didn't resist. When he placed kisses on her eyes, her cheeks, her jaw, her brain overheated and her mind went fuzzy. When he finally took her mouth and kissed her, she kissed him back passionately. Putting her left hand behind his head to tug him closer and her right hand on his cheek, she gave herself over. Her tongue played with his, battling for dominance she couldn't hope to win. Sucking his bottom lip, she shocked herself when she bit down none too gently. She felt him smirk against her mouth and she moaned when he bit back. There was nothing elegant about the kiss, it was a fierce attack from both sides, with teeth clashing and noses bumping. But something that felt so familiar and good couldn't be wrong, right?

When he made a path down her neck like the day before, she let him. Pulling down her top and letting it rest under her breasts, Tom let his eyes roam over her bra clad chest spilling over. She was wearing the bra he picked out for her. A soft pink, lacy confection that didn't really support; it just provided a flimsy cover. She had bigger breasts than the average girl, and the neckline of her shirt pushed them together and lifted them up. Peppering kisses on exposed flesh, Tom licked her collarbones and the dimple between them. When he couldn't hold off anymore, he sucked her breast into his mouth and flicked his tongue over her lace covered nipple.

The tiny flick produced an overwhelming sensation going straight to her core. "Oh.. oh! Th..there!" she panted and wished he'd stop sucking so she could take off the bra. Thankfully, they were on the same page and Tom tugged the bra under her breasts to join her shirt, leaving him free to explore every which way.

His lips latched on to her skin again. "Fuck, honey, you're beautiful. Mmmhh. Open your legs." He moved between them when she did and laved the valley between her breasts while his hands roamed over her torso and her thighs. Kissing all over, he groaned out.

"My God, your tits.. are.. perfect".

Hermione was beside herself with need, wanting him to touch her nipples now. When he did, her eyes rolled back in her head. She couldn't believe the feelings he could evoke just by working over her breasts. Sucked and twisted, caressed and tugged, she felt a gushing between her thighs, knew her panties were wet and sticky.

And with every lave of his tongue, Tom's hands came closer to that wet spot. His rough fingers under her skirt traced deceivingly lazy circles on her thigh, closer and closer to her apex. When he finally touched her panties, Hermione moaned. Letting go of a nipple, he pulled up her shirt to expose her midriff and let his nose run over it.

"Baby, you're so wet. Your panties are soaked. For me, all for me", and he pushed her panties aside and glided his middle finger down her slit, front to back.

Panicked, she took hold of his wrist, doubts clamoring for attention in her brain. Gripping tightly she managed out, "No, uhhng.. Wait." But he kept moving his finger back and forth. "We.. can't. Oh!" He found her bud and was rubbing circles around it, barely touching it. It felt so good and waves of warmth spread over her body, like her nerve endings were conditioned to spread a feeling of pleasure at his slightest touch. She wasn't restraining him anymore, more like helping him move his hand. When he retracted his middle finger, she tried to pull him back but he was stronger.

"Lift your hips. Now." With his fingers gone, Hermione felt the doubts creep in again.

"Fucking now, Hermione" and she did, wary of his change of mood. He took hold of her panties and dragged them down. Then he pulled her skirt up and left her completely exposed. Instantly, shame washed over her and she tried to cover herself. One hand over her apex, the other belatedly covering her breasts. He sat on his knees in front of her, bringing them face to face and stared straight into her eyes. He looked faintly menacing.

"Take your hands away" he said quietly, but the impact of his gravelly voice was enormous. Was he angry?

"I hate it when you cover yourself from me. You belong to me, all of you."

Yes, he was angry, but she didn't understand it. It was like she had already done this to him once, and he was mad that she was doing it again. But when his eyes softened, she obeyed his every command.

"Hermione, baby, show yourself to me", he pleaded. And she did. He looked upon her folds and flushed a little. Without waiting anymore, he took control and kissed her deeply. Taking her hips in his hands, he moved her to the edge of the seat. His finger entered her passage and explored her insides., rubbing, curling, generally unraveling her. His thumb rubbed the little bud and after what could have been seconds or hours, a second finger joined the first in her channel. Moving them in and out and repeatedly curling his fingers in a beckoning gesture, Hermione came apart. Her lips opened on a silent scream, her back arched and her head fell back against the cushions. Her hips stopped gyrating and convulsed deliciously, in time with the walls around his fingers.

When she came to, she opened her eyes to see Tom unzipping his trousers. He was magnificent. She didn't have long to study him before he picked her up and laid her down on the ground.

He tested her readiness with two fingers. Satisfied, he told her "he couldn't fucking wait" and he entered her in one brutal stroke, deeply embedding his member inside her.

Het clit was still extremely sensitive from when she came a few seconds ago, so she knew that any friction provided could trigger a new orgasm. And Tom provided. With his first stroke, his pelvis rubbed against her bud and with his second, she was lost again.

"Oh, fuck! Oh, unghh."

Tom started moving a little bit faster and groaned. She was clenching all over him and it felt like heaven.

"You're so tight, honey", and kissed her breast. Moving up and down her body and caressing her all over with his hands, he felt her coming down from her high and looked at her. She was beautifully flushed, a little sweaty and her hair had come loose and curls were surrounding her head.

"Say you'll never leave me".

Her eyes opened and she looked at him. Her eyes caressed his face. The crowfeet at his eyes, the grey hairs, the flush on his cheekbones, the lock of hair falling over his forehead. But most of all, his beautiful eyes displaying some kind of emotion she couldn't make out. Then she looked down and saw the erotic picture of where they were joined and he was pulling in and out.

"I love you. I won't leave".

He pulled out completely and thrust back in, picking up his pace, pummeling himself in and out. Incredibly, she felt another orgasm building up. Her eyes opened wide and she looked disbelievingly at a smirking Tom.

"It's building..oh, again! Oh, oh, mmhmm.. Tom. There, oh there.. Again, Tom.. Unghh. Fuck. TOM! Crying out, tears slipping down her cheeks, she felt him coming with a few final thrusts, deep and slow. Felt warmth spread inside her passage. When she could see him again, his face was scrunched up in pleasure, a sight she would never forget.

A sight she did forget, she realized. Images came rushing back, of Tom's face twisted in ecstasy, her body convulsing.. and she wasn't a virgin, she didn't feel any pain just now.

She needed to think. She made love to Tom before. She wasn't a virgin anymore. And something he said before still niggled at her. He kept her inside on account of dangerous, disgruntled customers? Dangerous, really? Something sprang into life inside her, something vicious, telling her he wasn't telling the her whole truth. She felt the presence of new memories, just beyond her reach. Felt that she was on the brink of remembering something vital.

Tom stood up to get a wet cloth to clean them up. She blushed, confusing him when she said she'd rather have a bath.

Entering her private bathroom, she sighed. Filling the bath, she hoped it would relax her enough to handle the influx of memories she knew was coming. And then they came.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

He needed to see her. He needed to talk to her. She's been in there for ages. Usually, she likes to cuddle with him after sex. Entwine their legs, her head on his shoulder. And now, she just left him. Couldn't get away fast enough. And she's still in that damn bathroom. What the hell happened?

He scared her off. Everything was going fine, she loved him, she trusted him and he ruined it. Two days with a clean slate and she's running away again. He should have been gentle. Not fall on her like a dog in heat. They didn't even take off their clothes. Hell, they didn't make it to the bed even though it was but two steps away.

He felt like breaking down the door. Admittedly he went too fast, but she was there with him almost every step of the way. He valiantly searched for a hold on his emotions. It was fragile at best and it wouldn't take long for it to snap. The way he was feeling, he wouldn't be using an _Alohomora_ to open the door_,_ but a _Reducto_ or _Bombarda_.

Balling his fists, he knocked on the door and entered. She was lying in the tub, peacefully, almost serenely. Her eyes closed, her wet hair tangling all over her shoulders, her breasts flirting with the surface of the water. Thankfully, the tub was just large enough to accommodate them both. Taking off this clothes quickly, he tested the water and climbed in on the opposite side.

She didn't stir. Didn't even scrunch her eyes. Was she asleep or ignoring him? He couldn't live with either option, so he added some warm water and set about waking her up. Painting her silhouette with fleeting touches of his fingers, he whispered sweet nothings to her.

"Hermione, baby, wake up. Darling, open your eyes.. I want you."

And still no reaction. Her breasts were puckered by the cold and screaming for his attention. Obligingly, he kissed and licked them. Bit at her and soothed the spot. In the meantime, his hand moved to her folds, tracing them lovingly, gently, rubbing her clit until it was swollen. When he entered her with his fingers, she turned her head from side to side and moaned quietly. He began pumping his digits in and out of her repeatedly, knowing he'd have her awake in a few moments. She stirred again, her eyes flickering behind her lids. The smile on his face was anticipating, she was almost there. Gently rubbing her bud again with his thumb, he increased the pressure with every pump of his fingers. And he couldn't resist palming his cock.

"Oh.. Oh. What? Oh.. mmmhm?"

She was awake and Tom smirked triumphantly. She was at the edge of the cliff. A few strikes of his hand, and she would be coming.

"Stop..p. Please. No, oh, don't want.. Oh, no, no."

Why was she resisting him?

"I know, oh.. know. Mmhm, You are.. oh, Voldemort!" She called out his name mid orgasm, drawing out every syllable, almost screaming it out. Tom was dazed, drunk with the pleasure of hearing her yell Voldemort while climaxing. It was magical, and he pulled out his fingers from her body to cradle her tenderly like she was made of glass.

"God, Hermione, you're beautiful. You unhinge me, sweetheart."

Then she came down again, her eyes filling with terror and hurt, and it finally clicked. She called him Voldemort. She knew he was Voldemort. He stiffened his spine and wiped the expression off his face.

Hermione stood up and left the tub in a panic, not thinking straight. She threw open the door with a bang and ran to her room, unaware of her nakedness or maybe not caring in the face of danger. She was crying, terrified of him and felt the primitive need to get away. Scenes from the past flashed in front of her eyes.

_A trusting, fifteen-year old Hermione, stumbling upon a Death Eater meeting. Seeing Tom torture a prisoner, an broken body in the middle of a circle of cloaked figures. Seeing the hate on his face, as he repeatedly cast the Cruciates Curse on the woman._

_Cloaked figures kissed the hem of his robe, kneeling before him, calling him "my lord". Telling him he was a true heir of Slytherin. That ruling was his birthright. That there was no greater power on earth than him._

_Voldemort, not her Tom, hammering out the details of his plans to take over the government with his followers. Laying out plans to raid different establishments, to kill innocent people. To turn powerful people to his side. Telling his followers to take no prisoners, only the ones he needed._

_Her, crying hysterically in her room, packing her bags. Tom, descending on her, taking the bag and throwing it against the wall. "You will never leave me, never."_

_Her, cowering away from him, refusing to eat. Not talking, not sleeping, confined to her rooms spending the time alone or with Tom. Not daring to think about what he was doing when he wasn't with her. Yet unable to stop thinking about all the possible victims, the carnage her beloved Tom must be causing. Throwing up every night, weighed down with guilt on his behalf and with guilt for having loved him. Failing to get up in the morning, weighed down with a deep depression. Wasting away._

_Tom, continuing his lessons with her even with her lack of participation. Reading to her, enticing her with rare magical artifacts. But his efforts were futile. She remained completely closed off from him._

_Tom, exploding in rage when she flinched away from his touch yet again. "You better obey me girl, or you won't like the consequences." Him, reaching for his wand and throwing a curse. Hermione, instinctively putting up a shield. Him, completely losing his mind and, "Crucio". The unbelievable pain, wishing for death, wishing he was attacking her with a slicing knife or a baseball bat instead. And then his remorse. "I_'_m sorry baby. I_'_m so sorry. Please, forgive me. Please. I love you. I_'_ll do anything for you, please." Him laying next to her while she cried. Holding her while she sobbed uncontrollably. _

_Tom, entering her room, telling her he couldn_'_t allow a repeat of what happened. Telling her he was sorry, but he had to do this. A flash of light and a whispered Imperio. And she was back to being the Hermione he knew. Her, reading anything he gave her, never trying to escape, loving him again, excited about any scrap he was willing to give her. She was his. _

_Hermione, putting up some resistance and Tom, having more difficulty with the spell every time he renewed the Imperio._

Tom caught up to her as she threw open another door, slamming her against it and pressing his body against hers. His cock was still erect after witnessing her come, but that was the least of his worries.

"Listen. Listen to me, honey. I'm still me. I'm still the man who loved you and raised you. Everything you remembered before this was true. We were great together, perfectly matched emotionally and rationally. Trust me, Hermione. You mean everything to me. Hear me when I say that I mean you no harm."

"I remember who you are. I remember the Death Eater meetings. I remember you tortured and killed people in your quest for power. I remember you tortured and killed me emotionally. That you kept me locked in this house. Let.. let me go, do not touch me!"

She was crying in earnest now. Her voice broke in different places and she was trembling violently. Tom closed his eyes in anguish. He was back to square one, even after the time she spent in the past.

He swallowed, "And the months before you came back to me, the months you were away. Didn't those mean anything to you?"

"What do you mean? What meant anything? Are you trying to confuse me? You.. you're evil. That's what I meant."

She pressed herself even further against the door, trying to avoid contact with him.

"I hate you. I hate everything you stand for. I wish you'd never found me. I wish you'd let me die as a child. I wish I'd never let you.. touch.. me. Stay away from me, you monster", she said, her voice getting fainter with each word she spoke, and he felt every whisper cut through his flesh. Her words crucified him. After everything, she still hated him. His plan didn't work. He fell to his knees behind her, his face drawn into tight lines. He kissed her hip, "Forgive me, Hermione. Forgive me. If I could take back the things I've done that hurt you, I would. I love you."

She shivered, "I don't believe you're capable of love. You're not human. You're Voldemort, that is what defines you. And I don't believe you'd take back everything you did to me. Because you didn't just hurt me when you cursed me. You hurt me with every terrible thing you did. I may not have known about every murder, every victim, but I still felt them. I felt the pain and guilt in my bones and rushing through my bloodstream. It made me physically ill, the idea of what you might be doing. What you were capable of doing for power. And we both know you'd never take back those things that brought you closer to your goal. "

Still clutching the door desperately she added, "And if you truly mean me no harm now, you'll let me go."

And he did. He watched her run for her wand, blindly pick a sundress, all the while keeping him in her eyesight. She didn't even take the time to put the dress on. She just made a beeline for the door. However, before she even turned the corner Tom put up an _Anti-Apparation_ ward, vanished all the floo powder and reinforced the boundaries of his property. He'll let her have some breathing space but he'll never let her go.

With exception of the time he tortured her, he'd do it all over again. He'd prefer not to have to use the _Imperius_. But if it's necessary, he will.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Okay, up until now I've been replying to reviews with a pm. But then an amazing thing happened and a guest reviewed! So, I wrote my first (and hopefully my last) AN to thank them and let them know I've read it and taken it into consideration! If a future guest wants to make my day and review too, same goes for you :). **

**While I'm at it, I don't own anything you recognize from the Harry Potter universe. This goes for the past chapters and everything I'll be posting hereafter.**

**And I want to apologize for all the mistakes, but there is only so much of my own writing I can take, which makes proofreading a little bit problematic. And I'm not one for beta's, because it's wonderful what they do but they hold up the entire process.**

**Thank you all followers and reviewers, you've made writing my own story less scary! Sorry I'm creeping you all out, but you ARE reading an M-rated Voldemort fic, hahaha.**

**Enjoy!**

**FlyAway1993 **

Chapter Five

How could she be so stupid? How could she know everything she knew about him and still believe she could get away from this place? How could she remember the things he did to keep her with him in the past and still hope to break free? A hope that has been ruthlessly crushed, mind. Thinking about her folly, she let herself fall to the ground and pulled her hair until her scalp ached.

She actually let herself taste the freedom, running and dressing at the same time. But the air tightened and pressed down on her when she tried to _Apparate_. And the garden gates wouldn't open even though she tried every spell on them that came to mind. And the wall at the edge of the property could have been surrounding Azkaban. Towering over her, it simply absorbed every bit of magic she sent at it. And that's how she came to be here, her knees in the dirt, her hands in her hair, leaning against that damned wall.

She was trapped again. In the house of a mass murderer, a maniac, a man incapable of being saved. And the _Imperius_ was all she had to look forward to.

Defeated, she thought she could just as well be comfortable in her prison and began making her way inside. Hopefully, Tom wouldn't be in her bedroom anymore. Treading carefully, she navigated the house and let out a sigh of relief when she found her room empty. Cleaning herself up, brushing her teeth and putting on a loose top and sleep shorts, she climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling.

How could she be so gullible? She thought he was her perfect white knight right until the second she saw him torture someone. She never had an inkling when she was young, her face needed to be pressed into the facts before she knew he was evil. Had she been so starved for love as a child that she was blind to the faults of anyone who offered her a scrap of affection? Did he know how vulnerable she had been? That she'd be devoted to anyone willing to champion her cause, to be her guardian?

He rescued her for her magical abilities, she knew that. An eight year old conjuring up a _Patronus Shield_? Tom was too greedy to pass that up. But why did he hide his true nature from her? Why didn't he raise her on his dark beliefs, cultivate her power for his cause. Didn't he know she would have done anything from him as a child? Didn't he know she got her moral code from her Tommy, the good man she knew before the murderer? Ironically enough the same code that alienated her from him at the age of fifteen.

And my God, she really believed he was a shopkeeper. Tom, a shopkeeper! As her teacher he showed her how powerful he was. She should have known better after seeing the spells and potions he could effortlessly pull off, the knowledge he possessed. And still, she was blinded enough to accept him as a shopkeeper. The corner's of her mouth curled up.

Daft bimbo.

And how could she not have objected to being kept inside? She supposed she was young and contented, but even so the alarm bells should have been ringing. She was homeschooled, didn't go to the store, didn't see his place of work, didn't have any friends. Nothing. Just Tom. He kept her barefoot and pregnant, just without the pregnancy or the cooking.

She was full out laughing now. He told her he loved her and that he wouldn't hurt her. He asked her to believe him. Believe him, the man who's been lying to her from the moment they met. Who lulled her into a false sense of security. Who tortured her when she wouldn't give him the time of day.

And who's to say her beautiful memories weren't lies too? The comforting and loving. The teaching and blossoming. She was dealing with a sick and twisted man intelligent enough to pull anything off. A great wizard who could have done anything to her mind. He could have planted the memories, and the thought terrified her.

Her laugh turned hysterical now, with tears streaming down her face. And just like that, she was crying. Full-blown sobs, wracking her body without relief. Coughing, she looked up and saw him standing in the door opening. Why did he always have to intrude?

"Calm down." She laughed harder if that was possible. Like she could just stop freaking out about him because he told her to.

"Hermione, take deep breaths, calm down." But she couldn't.

"You're making yourself sick. This can't be good for.. you."

"I'll be fine if you'd just go. Or if you let me go." He came further into the room.

"No, we have to figure this out. I'm not letting you go without a fight. And I think I have a solution. You already know I've done horrible things, so I have nothing to hide from you. Our problem right now is that you don't believe that I love you and that I've changed. That I won't hurt you anymore. You need to trust me again, like you trusted me when you were little. And you can, baby. I'll take some _Veritaserum_ and you can ask me if I'd hurt you. You can ask me whether I love you or not. You can ask me anything, because you've already seen the ugly and can only discover the beautiful."

And she believed him. She fucking believed him. Furious, she threw herself out of her bed and pointed her finger at him, unaware of her top slipping and baring a shoulder.

"My God, you had me again! You should be giving lessons to actors, with your deceivingly honest expressions. I'm such a bloody moron! But I know you, and this is just a ploy to trap me into staying with you. No. I won't fall for it! Never will I fall for any of your tricks again. "

His body language screamed he was frustrated with her. He sighed deeply, his hand rose to rub his forehead and he stepped closer to her. "It's not a trick. It's me trying to hold on to you. And what have you got to lose? Tell me, because I'm the one sticking out my neck here! This is your opportunity to get some answers. Be the girl I know and take it." By the end of his tirade, he was practically screaming the words at her in agitation. His face was drawn, the normally faint wrinkles more pronounced. He was wearing an old white shirt and drawstring pants, but the shirt molded his torso and showed all his muscles.

"Be the girl I love", and he kissed her. He forced his mouth on hers and didn't let her pull away. She shook her head from side to side trying to break contact, but he just followed her faithfully. His lips moved over hers, roughly demanding a response she refused to give. Entwining his fingers in her hair, he dug his fingers into her scalp and forced his tongue between her lips, reaching teeth that refused to budge. The rest of his body was pressed tight against hers, but he didn't stop trying to get closer. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, generating a constant friction. She tried with all her might to resist him and kept her mouth stubbornly unmoving, but her spine lost some of its stiffness.

The little tell was all Tom needed, and he gentled his approach. He massaged her scalp and peppered kisses all over her face. She felt an instant reaction in her abdomen, his tenderness weakening her resolve. She needed to stop him, right now.

"I'm brewing the serum myself", she whispered, her face turned away not wanting to see the victory on his.

"Okay", he whispered back and kissed her neck again.

"And I'm buying all the ingredients."

"No. Absolutely not. I'm not letting you leave this house."

"That's rich coming from someone who wants to build trust between us. I knew you were just putting up a smokescreen."

He saw the disillusionment in her eyes and thought fast, "What if I buy the ingredients, but you're there with me wearing an Invisibility Cloak. That way you can see the ingredients aren't tampered with and I'll get to keep your existence a secret from my enemies and know you're safe."

It sounded like a reasonable compromise and she'd be leaving the house. Never expecting he'd actually agree to her going out, she felt faint. The possibilities were endless.

"Okay. We'll do it your way. Would you leave me alone now? I'm tired."

"Right, okay. Sleep well honey, just don't forget to take your pills", and he left.

What did she do? She let him suck her back into his web. And she was giving him the wrong signals. He engineered all this to get her to trust him again. Isn't her surrender telling him she's willing to work on their relationship? To move past their issues? But she's not, is she? No, Hermione convinced herself, she's doing this to humour him. To show him that despite his efforts, she won't ever accept him again. Yes, she'll humour him and then crush his hopes. Because she'll never forgive him. She'd rather die than condone mass murder.

And just maybe she could find a way to get away from him. Mind working fast, Hermione knew that if she wanted to pull it off, she needed to be prepared.

Moving into action, she picked up an empty inkbottle and transfigured it into a small bag. Then she tried putting an Undetectable Extension Charm on it, succeeding on her third try. She stopped for a minute, frozen. Was she really doing this? She needs more time to prepare, to make lists. She was bound to forget something vital in her hurry.

Shaking it off, she packed several sets of clothes, her toothbrush, soap, shampoo, an extra pair of shoes, her pills, a small pillow, a blanket, a magical first aid kit and a collection of books. Then she disillusioned herself and slipped out of the room, making her way to a thankfully empty living room. Moving to the box containing emergency money, Hermione quickly emptied it into a small pouch she brought with her and made her way back to her room. This way, anything she didn't pack into the bag she could buy.

Tired, she slipped into bed and put the bag under her pillow.

She was ready.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

He found out. Hermione tried not to flinch when she saw him approach her. Menacingly. Dangerously. He knew she tried to get away. All the time at the shop he was pretending not to notice. He was biting down his anger and now it's coming out. Slowly she positioned herself in front of the sink with the kitchen table acting as a flimsy barrier between them.

Why was she always one step behind? Why couldn't she be cleverer? Why did she hold on to hope of escape even though she knows it would fail and anger him? At first she thought she had a good chance of getting away. _Knockturn Alley_ was dark and reasonably busy and she was wearing the cloak. But with every step she tried to take away from Tom, something held her back. Icy fingers or tendrils curled around her body, her wrists, her legs and kept her in place next to him. Her frustration rising, Hermione tried to _Apparate_ without results.

He had her cornered. Thinking furiously while still following Tom, she tried to figure out what kind of spell he used? If she knew which one she might know the counter curse. But even though she recalled almost everything he taught her she never heard of a spell that bound a person to another like this one. Maybe it would help if she tried to pinpoint the moment he put the charm on her. At breakfast? When she was sleeping? When she… and then she remembered the bracelet. She knew it! Before leaving he randomly told her to wear the beautiful piece of jewelry. He must have charmed it before he gave it to her. But when she tried to take it off it wouldn't budge. The same icy tendrils kept it around her wrist.

Still following Tom, still tugging at the bracelet, she saw a man approaching her, walking in her path. He was tall and blond, with grey eyes and immaculate clothes. As he was good-looking and muscular, she wasn't surprised he caught her attention but there was something else. She recognized him from somewhere.

Abraxas? Abraxas something? Well, if something didn't happen soon she'd literally bump into him. Bloody Tom with his bloody curse keeping her next to him.

Luckily he veered slightly off to the right and respectfully lowered his eyes when he saw her jailer. So this was one of his followers. But she couldn't remember seeing him at that meeting before. So how did she know who he was? That is, if his name even was Abraxas. It did sound like something her imagination cooked up.

And now here they were. She was pressed against the counter. Tom was getting closer to her, crowding her, cornering her. Fury were dancing in his eyes, burning into hers. He knew. The bracelet must have been charmed to warn him too, not just to restrain her. And then he was upon her and his hands circled her neck.

"What did I tell you about trying to get away from me? Do you think you can outsmart me? Me!" He squeezed a little harder, choking the breath out of her.

"We're out to buy the ingredients for the fucking _Veritaserum_ I'm taking for you and you're trying to leave me?" She was gasping now, spots appearing in her vision.

"You think you can find another man to take care of you? You think there is someone out there who is better than me? Eh? Tell me!" But she didn't have any air left to say anything. What she did have was her wand. Between their bodies, pointed at him, it poked him in his belly. Shocked, he released her and took a step back while drawing out his own wand.

"So you want to play? Time for a little lesson, is it? I have to tell you this isn't a wise decision because I'm not feeling so forgiving right now."

"I will not let you kill me" she gasped out. And before she was finished with her words, the duel erupted. Blinding flashes flew across the kitchen destroying everything they came into contact with. Hermione deflected curse after curse, afraid of the almost crazy look in his eyes. And Tom was relentless, shooting off spell after spell one darker than the other. The table stood annoyingly in the way so he vanished it, cooing mockingly. "Baby, I'm proud of you. Experienced men would have fallen by now. But you will submit. You can't hide behind your shields forever. You will be mine to use as I like."

Something snapped inside of her. Instead of waiting for his move she wanted to be the one attacking. She wanted to hurt him like he hurt her. Squaring her shoulders, drawing herself up to her full height, she pointed her wand at the ceiling above him and made it crumble down. He cast a shield and avoided the rocks, but she was already charming various loose objects to hurtle towards him.

He smirked. "Is that the best you can do? Did I teach you nothing? I thought you were smart but it seems you're just another silly girl. I think you're better off defending. "

Quickly, she threw a myriad of curses at him. Funny ones, paralyzing ones, disarming ones, anything she could think of. She knew he was holding off his own attack just to see what she would do, but she wasn't complaining. She needed to see him crumble just this once. Each curse that missed him made her more furious. He was deflecting and countering what he deserved and it made her see red.

"_Secare!_" and to her great astonishment she saw blood dripping down his arms. He looked at his shoulder and back at her with gleaming eyes.

"Now that's my girl. Do it again." She shook her head and lowered her wand. Shocked, she stared at the blood, the pain she inflicted with her cutting hex. "Do it, Hermione."

"Do it!" he screamed and advanced upon her. Instinctively, she put up her wand again afraid of what he might do if he reached her. Four steps left. Three. Two.

"_Mutilare,_" she yelled out.

She screamed when she saw him duck. The curse missed him by a hair. The look on his face was feral.

"That one would have done quite some damage. Great use of the Dark Arts, honey." And then he took her shoulders and dragged her to him. Still shocked by what she had done, she didn't have any defenses left when he took hold of her wand and he threw it on the floor followed by his own.

For a moment, they both looked at each other while breathing heavily and she knew he was going to kiss her.

His mouth came down on hers, his lips bruising as he ravaged her. She struggled with all she had, turning her head left and right and punching him with balled fists. But he just tightened his hold on her and molded his lips to hers. She wouldn't let this happen, not again, so she bit his lip as hard as she could.

"Keep still," he muttered, framing her face with pale hands and twisting it to his satisfaction, fingers biting into her flesh. Kissing her again he tore at her clothes, this time he did manage to get them all off. Standing completely naked in front of him she knew she had two choices. Either she'd keep fighting him and her own urges, or she'd capitulate.

She let go. She helped him unbutton his shirt and tackled his belt but his chest proved too much of a temptation. Abandoning the buckle she glided her nose against his muscles. She licked the ridges and hollows, threaded her fingers through the hair growing on his chest and kissed and licked his nipples. She couldn't get enough of him and didn't let up until he took her hand and placed it on his groin. By now his pants and underwear were off too.

Tentatively she began touching his cock with the tips of her fingers. Tracing patterns, feeling the ridges, exploring textures. Impatiently, Tom took her wrist and lifted her hand up to his mouth. He licked her palm and saw her eyes dilate. Then he placed it on his member again and closed his hand over hers into a tight fist and began moving up and down. Slow at first but gaining momentum with every stroke they made, she saw his face change, heard his breathing change. There was something so unbelievably erotic about the scene she was witnessing and she felt the stickiness between her thighs. As if he heard her thoughts, his hand invaded that same place. Stroking, making her moan.

"Straddle me." He stopped their stroking. "Place your hands on my shoulder and straddle me." She did as he asked, hoisting herself up, wrapping her feet around his waist. He was strong, supporting her with hands under her ass and standing up straight. Slowly he lowered her on himself as she guided his member inside of her with the one hand she dared to move away from his shoulder.

"Now move," and he lifted her up, almost completely off his cock. Sliding down again, she couldn't believe the feelings he evoked in her. With the help of his arms she found a rhythm; primal, life changing. This man, or monster, who was years older than her had the ability to make her go wild, let loose, throw away all inhibitions.

Slamming her hard against the kitchen wall, Tom took over completely and began pounding into her. Grunting, hissing, moaning, both of their climaxes were building steadily. Reaching for her own orgasm she met every thrust with her hips, arching her back, needing and wanting more.

"More.. oh, harder! F..Faster!"

"You like it like this," he groaned out, "fast and rough. Take it. Take it all." And he rotated his hips making sparks shoot through her body. She came all around him, clenching powerfully and sucking him in.

"God, honey, you're so tight." One thrust, two thrusts, three and he climaxed too. Leaning his head on her breasts and breathing heavily, he recovered from his pleasure.

"The cut is still bleeding," she whispered as she was reluctant to destroy the moment.

"Let it. It doesn't matter." He nuzzled the hollow between her breasts and then, "You aren't apologizing."

She simply said no. But she was ashamed of what she did. Trying to change the subject she whispered the first thing that came to mind.

"You're kind of beautiful when you let go," and she kissed his hair while running her fingers through it. Looking at her he saw her blush and avert her eyes. "I'm sorry, it's a silly word to use." He grinned indecently.

"I'm only beautiful when I'm in the throes of orgasm? You wound me." Picking her up bridal style making her let out a surprised yell, he maneuvered her around the kitchen, up the stairs and to his bedroom. Depositing her on his bed he towered over her and just looked at her. Naked, in his room, with a million signs saying she just made love to him and still she was capable of blushing at their nakedness and like a virgin averted her eyes. She was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

"Well, as I don't want you to think I'm ugly I'd better keep fucking you senseless for the rest of the day. Maybe even all night. You can start your potion tomorrow."

Surprised, she looked up into his face again and asked, "You're still going to drink it? After what I did?"

His eyes turned colder and the skin around his mouth turned white. "I want trust between us. I want you to stay with me. I want you to know I'm telling you the truth. So yes, we're still doing it. But know this; I will not forget what you tried to do today. Call it strike one."

He was almost making her feel guilty for doing the right thing for herself. For trying to get away from his abuse and torment even if it meant leaving behind a piece of her heart.

"But let's leave all that for tomorrow. I think I promised you a night of sex you won't forget. Maybe I could even spank you for your failed escape but you'd love it too much."

She squealed when he fell on top of her. She gasped out her surprise when he flipped them around and made her sit on him. She screamed when he did that special something, hitting exactly the right spot over and over again. And she couldn't keep count of all the other sounds that escaped her the rest of the night.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

She was looking at the small vial standing innocently on the table. She'd been working on the potion for days and her efforts weren't wasted. Tasteless and odorless, the perfect batch of _Veritaserum_ was winking up at her. A mere few drops of clear liquid, yet every one of them had the power to shatter her.

Tom was waiting patiently for her to say or do something. He was leaning back in his chair with his hand folded in his lap and his eyes trained on her. His stance was deceptively lazy, but she knew his mind was working just as furiously as hers.

"Your move, honey."

She knew that, but she was hesitant to start this as nothing good could come out of it. She took a deep breath.

"Drink it."

He took the vial and drained it before she could say anything else. She saw his Adam's apple move when he swallowed it down and quickly focused her attention away from his surprisingly alluring throat.

"Your move," he repeated in that deep voice of his. Why was she thinking about those things? Think about the questions! She'd start with the easy ones, the ones he expected her to ask. "Do you love me?"

"Yes." The conviction in his voice rang throughout the lab. She knew the answer before she asked it, but it still sent a pleasurable, tingly feeling through her body. Of course he was sure of his love for her, otherwise he wouldn't have volunteered to drink the potion.

"Will you hurt me again?"

"Not if I can help it. And never again physically. Not without making sure you enjoy it anyway."

She blushed, but soldiered on despite the images that came to mind. "Not if I can help it? What does that mean?"

"It means that I don't want to hurt you, but I might find it necessary to do so if you're going to run away from me again. I want you to stay by my side of your own volition, but I will use whatever means available to keep you next to me if you don't. "

"And that means the _Imperius Curse_, right?"

"Yes," he grimaced. Disturbing information, but yet again what she expected to hear. His love for her wasn't a beautiful thing. It was twisted and jealous and very possessive. Time for another question he counted on.

"Can I trust you?"

"That is something you'll have to decide. Isn't that what all this is about, anyway? You finding out for yourself whether I'm trustworthy or not?"

"Right. Still, I'd like to know if you would you call yourself trustworthy."

"I keep my word and promises. And when I say something, I usually mean it."

"So you're saying you have changed? You're not torturing and killing anymore?" There was a note of disbelief in her voice. His face contorted slightly and a sinister look passed over his eyes.

"I don't need to. The Ministry of Magic is mine, I have the ultimate power. Everyone does as I say, so there's no one to torture or kill. No one would dare disobey me."

And that's supposed to make it all right? Because everyone is too terrified to stand up to him he doesn't have to kill anymore and that makes him the good guy?

"What policies did you change when you came to power?"

"Nothing much. Just the fact that I'm the one they're listening to now. I was toying with the idea of using pureblood supremacy to get more followers, but I knew it wasn't necessary. Besides, I don't care about blood anymore, just about power."

The conversation, or rather the interrogation, lulled to a stop for a moment. She saw him shift in his chair and knew that he thought she was done. But she was just gathering enough courage to ask her next question. Fumbling with a loose thread on her jeans, she kept her attention on her lap.

"When you.. when we slept together. I wasn't a.. it wasn't my first time. We did it before, but I can't remember."

She felt his gaze on her, burning her. He didn't say anything but she could feel his surprise at the subject change.

She lifted her head. "Tell me, please." She knew that he didn't expect anything other than her asking him if she can trust him. But she wasn't going to miss this opportunity.

He looked a little troubled. "What do you want to know? Apparently you already know it wasn't your first time. Yes, we had sex before. But it was me who took your virginity and it was one of the best experiences in both our lives."

Oh my God, he raped her when she was under the _Imperius_! She didn't remember anything, but it was the only logical explanation. She didn't lose her virginity after her accident, she was sure of that and he confirmed it with his answer. During her coma was out too, so either he took advantage of a little girl too young to understand or he took advantage of a cursed woman.

The new realizations shook her to the core and made her tremble violently and the accusing look in her eyes couldn't cover up the film of tears.

"You bastard! H.. How old was I? Was I under your _Imperio_? You raped me you lying FUCK!"

He closed his eyes briefly, squeezing them shut with some kind of emotion. Then he rubbed his face with his hands and took his time before he answered.

Abruptly she launched herself out of her seat and whipped out her wand. "Answer the question! How old was I?"

He got up too, with slightly more control than her. He raised his hands in the air and kept his face free from any emotion. "You were twenty."

"So I was under the _Imperius_ then. You brainwashed me into fucking you, you fucking.. disgusting.."

Tears streamed down her face. Words failed her. But with his next sentence, Tom completely confounded her.

"You mind wasn't being controlled by me," he gritted out. She sat down again. "But.. how?"

"You remember when I told you how you came to be in a coma? That you were experimenting with a curse and you vanished but came back unconscious? That wasn't exactly what happened."

'You lied to me" He kept silent.

"Well, don't leave it there," she urged him on impatiently when he didn't elaborate.

"You know everything about us before the accident right? How you found out about me and how I tried to entice you with magical artifacts and rare books? And when that didn't work I put you under my control?" She gave a tight nod, her lips pursed together.

"Well every time I renewed the curse it became harder. You were building up resistance you see, and I was getting weary of the situation. Weary of the love and attention I received, but knew to be false," he touched her cheek but pulled away when he saw the look on her face, "until everything exploded. You were with me in my study and examining a _Time Turner_ when you broke free of my curse and you dropped the hourglass on the floor. I looked up and saw you standing in front of me, surrounded by a shimmering cloud of dust. I quickly realized what was happening and that you were about to be sent to the past and knew that if I wanted my plan to work, I couldn't lose any time. So I sent a charm towards you."

"What plan?" Hermione whispered.

"The plan to make you fall in love with me. First, I needed your love as a woman so you had to stop seeing me as a guardian. Then I wanted you to love me without having to force you so you needed to see past Voldemort. When I saw the broken Time Turner, I took my chance and made sure you wouldn't just end up somewhere randomly. I sent you to a younger me who hadn't raised you or killed anyone and I hoped that after spending some time with him you'd give him the kind of love I craved. And ultimately I hoped that when you came back to this time, to the older me in front of you, that you'd love me in that same way." A little forcefully he added, "I dare you to fault me for that. I don't like where this conversation is going. Are we done?"

"Which charm did you use?"

"A tracker charm." Impressive. The spell was written in ancient runes and the wand work was intricate. Moreover, the preparations beforehand were just as important as the actual casting as both people had to drink a potion that took months to brew.

"I drank the potion without knowing it?"

"I gave it to you when you were eight. I knew we were going to need it."

"Because you had already met me in the past, so you knew I would Time Travel, but you wanted to make sure I ended up in your arms, right? So I could swoon right into them." She had angered him.

"Right, baby. And that's exactly what happened. You swooned and I took your virginity. I didn't rape you. I didn't force you with magic. I wasn't twice your age. We were both twenty, it was consensual and you gave me everything you had. Your heart, your body and your soul. Until you vanished in front of my nose and I didn't see you again until you were eight."

That completed the circle. He met her for the first time when he was twenty, they had some time together in which they apparently fell in love and had sex, she went back to, well, _now_, and twenty-something years later he found her on the street with some knowledge of how their future would turn out.

"You've loved me for all those years?"

"Yes."

"And when I time traveled I told you were you could find the eight-year-old me?"

"No, you'd lost your memories so you didn't know. We were on an even foot, you couldn't remember me and it was the first time I ever saw you. There was no bad history between us and you were mine. We had a clean slate and you gave yourself to me. That right there is proof, if there ever was any, that you belong to me. And because you didn't remember anything about our life together so you couldn't warn me of all the things that went wrong. We had to live through it."

"No warnings? You actually accidentally found me as a kid?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't steal me from my parents?"

His face closed up and if she hadn't paid him as much attention as she had, she would've missed it.

"No."

"There's something else. I saw it. What is it? I wasn't abandoned, was I? You took my parents from me!"

"Fuck, Hermione! I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this but you _were_ abandoned!" He didn't sound very sorry at all. "So you can stop casting me as the imaginary villain in all your tales of woe because this wasn't on me. You father did try to find you almost a year after he left you to rot but hell if I was going to let you go back to that fucking piece of scum. You don't remember much of your life with him but he hit you, Hermione! He was an addict without a job. What was I supposed to do, give you back?"

"And I suppose you think you're better than him? What's an addict who hits his daughter against a mass murderer?", she screamed back. They were both standing now and her breasts were heaving up and down. She couldn't believe he deprived her of her father, or even just the knowledge that the man who helped bring her into this world didn't completely forget about her. But she went too far. He narrowed his eyes and yanked her to his body until she was completely flush against him. His voice dropped to a menacing growl.

"Don't ever say something like that again. I gave you everything a child should have. Do you want to see what you looked like when I found you? Do you want to know what your own parents did to you? Well, here!" and he pulled a memory from his head with his wand and let it float in the air. It showed a picture of am extremely thin young girl covered in bruises. Lying out in the cold without a coat or any kind of warm clothing. The only thing she had in common with that girl was her wild, curly hair.

"But he got what he deserved. And I didn't even have to do it myself. An overdose," he said after he saw the question in her face. "Are you satisfied now, is that something you wanted to know?"

She couldn't really decide. It wasn't enjoyable, but at least now she could stop wondering about her biological father. The man who should have cared for her the way Tom had done.

"You should have told me. And what about the good memories of my childhood with you, were they all true? The loving guardian, the teacher, you didn't invent them and plant them in my memories?"

"My, what a suspicious little mind you have. No, I didn't plant the good memories. They actually happened."

"Why didn't you raise me to be like you? To be your follower?"

"Because I knew how you were going to turn out remember? I had seen you already, I had seen the good in you and the light in your eyes. And I fell in love with that girl. So I knew I couldn't turn you into a Death Eater as that would destroy the very essence of you."

And surprisingly, she saw how it all must have happened. The only piece missing in her mind was the time she spent in the past, but she had a feeling it wouldn't be too long before her brain accommodated her with that information.

"I need to think about all this, don't follow me."

Before she could get away he tightened his hold on her and dragged her back to his body. "I don't regret telling you all this, because you were going to remember it sooner or later anyway. But know this, I agreed to drinking the _Veritaserum_ so I could prove I loved you and that you could trust me. Not so you could have your pound of flesh. Remember strike one? This is strike two, baby," and he pressed a kiss on her collarbone.

She got away from him as quickly as she could, but not before he saw her eyes widening. He didn't particularly care whether it was arousal or fear. Either worked.

Strike two, it is.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

He was very handsome, with his dark hair and those eyes. Those eyes.. And as far as she could tell he wasn't that much older than her. Twenty, twenty-one maybe? His lips were forming words, but her attention was fixed on the way they moved. How could anyone be that handsome? Why was she so focused on his appearance? She just woke up in a strange place with a strange man hovering over her and the only thing she could think about was how handsome he was. What was she doing here? How did she get here? Who was he?

"Are you listening to anything I'm saying? You're not, are you?" and he heaved a big sigh. "I don't know whether I should take you to the Ministry or to St. Mungo's. You're not injured?"

Something big happened to her, but as far as she could tell she wasn't injured and she shook her head. "The Ministry it is."

He had asked for her name, but she didn't remember it. He had asked how she got past his wards, but she hadn't a clue. Maybe she should go to the hospital and get checked out. Why couldn't she remember anything? She was grateful she remembered being a witch and thanked heaven she still had her wand. But still, she didn't remember _her name_. The hospital seemed more prudent.

"Why not the hospital?", she asked him, whomever he was.

"Because you're not injured so medical care isn't the priority here. What's important is that you don't remember who you are and you don't remember where you're from. Someone needs to figure out what happened and take responsibility for you. And if you really need it, that someone can get you to St. Mungo's." And of course, he could use the boost to his reputation. It could only help him if the Ministry saw him as a good Samaritan who took care of poor, stranded young witches. And she was a witch, that much was certain. He could still picture the golden cloud she appeared in.

"That sounds.. good, I think." It was very practical, something she could understand. "Are you going to take me?"

"I will. Do you remember anything about the Ministry and the magical world?"

"I do."

"Then let's go." It wasn't very flattering, the way he tried to get rid of her. She couldn't decide whether he was annoyed or angry, but she knew he wasn't very happy with her. He could have been more gallant about her situation and shown some sympathy like a normal human being. But then again, she was a trespasser in his home and she disrupted his day.

A few moments after they arrived at the Ministry of Magic, the doorman told them which route to take and they ended up in the office of some old, tired ministry official. She explained whatever she could, but she didn't remember anything and the handsome one, Tom Riddle apparently, described the golden mist she appeared in. The old man called for a second official to join them and they repeated the whole story, not that there was much to tell.

"A golden mist? And no one can _Apparate_ on your grounds?"

Tom just nodded. "This isn't our jurisdiction, Ben. We need an Unspeakable. You know how to find the department of Mysteries?" Tom nodded again. "I'll send a memo so they'll know to expect you. It was great meeting you, but I'm afraid we can't help you here. "

The department of Mysteries wasn't very visitor friendly. Two people were waiting for them, a red haired, tiny woman and an average looking man. Tom, the only familiar thing she knew at the moment, was asked to wait outside and it looked like he wasn't happy about that. Strange, as he just wanted to get rid of her.

The Unspeakables took her into a circular room without windows. The woman just looked at her without blinking and the man prodded her with a golden stick, moving it over and around her. It looked like he was collecting something, the same gold dust Tom was talking about.

"Mhmm, just what I thought," the man said and he sent a thoughtful look towards the redhead.

"Time Traveler," the woman said and she went outside presumably to get Tom, because a few seconds later they both entered.

"Do you know something? " Tom asked the Unspeakable with the golden stick.

"Yes, and I if I'm to believe my friend, your former Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, I suspect that you've drawn your own conclusions. I even think that you've drawn the correct conclusion."

"So she's a Time Traveler?", the expression on his face one of satisfaction. She gasped. How did he know? And why didn't he tell her! She traveled through time! What year did she come from and which year did she end up in?

"Ah, you do not disappoint. And you know that the less people know about her, the better. That's where you come in, Mr Riddle. I'm going to ask you whether she can stay with you until we figure out a way to send her back. You already know about her anyway and keeping her at the Ministry isn't an option. Time Travelers attract people with bad intentions who want to exploit their knowledge of the future and somehow there's always a leak at the Ministry. We can't keep her secret or safe. "

The satisfaction on his face only grew. Wait, she was going to live with him? No, he was too handsome for her peace of mind and she didn't know anything anyway!

"Of course she can stay with me, I expected that much when I figured out she was from the future. I'll keep her safe, anything to help this girl out," he charmingly replied, but she suspected that he was interested in other things as well and not just in helping her. A few moment ago he couldn't get rid of her fast enough and only when he knew her to be a Time Traveler did he want to take care of her.

She cleared her throat, "But I don't have any knowledge.. I don't remember anything so no one can take advantage of me. I wouldn't even have known I'm from the future if you hadn't told me. And how can you send me back when I can't tell you where I'm from. I don't even know what year it is now. How long is it going to take for me to regain my memories? What if it never happens? Do you have a way of figuring out what time I belong to? Do you examine the dust or something?"

The woman smiled at her little speech. "It's the year 1948 and the best place for you is with Mr Riddle. We'll try our best to get some answers to all your questions, but your safety is paramount. Let us do our job, knowing you're in good hands. "

"No, I want to help! I want to be here to examine the dust myself. I want to experiment with my mind, to see if I can get the memories back with magic. I am not leaving the one place I can get some answers just to live in a house with a stranger!"

"I'm afraid that's the only option. You are coming home with me." She turned her attention to the man she apparently had no choice but to share a house with. His face was forbidding, but she saw he was intrigued as well, like she was a puzzle he was going to solve. She couldn't really blame him, she felt like a puzzle.

"You don't have to keep me safe, I can take care of myself. No one knows about me anyway. But will you help me with my memories? You'll get me back home?"

"I will, I never turn down a challenge," and the gleam in his eye told her he was already busy thinking of ways to help her. Or help himself. She mustn't forget that he only offered his time and home when he knew about her traveling.

"Great, we'll keep in contact with you and we'll let you know of our progress. If we need you for something, more information or an examination, we'll send an owl. For now, the dust we've collected is enough." The Unspeakables both shook her hand and said goodbye.

Tom took hold of her elbow and escorted her to the elevator. "Are you ready to leave?"

"I guess."

When they reached the Apparation point he took her in his arms and twirled them both round.

She saw the spacious garden with the gazebo through the gates and knew they were at the edge of his property. When he opened the gate she couldn't resist saying, "You have a beautiful home, Mr Riddle."

"You can call me Tom, as we're going to live together now."

"Do you live alone?" She immediately cursed herself for asking that question. What if he thinks she's interested in him and wants to know that he's available? Never mind that she did think him handsome, but still.

"Yes, I live alone", he grinned charmingly at her. He knew she was wary of him, but she could prove to be very valuable to him if he was granted access to her memories. The great thing was, she was willing to experiment with her mind to regain them and even asked for his help. If she learned to trust him, she'd be putty in his hands.

"Here, I'll show you around." He was lethal when he turned on the charm.

She loved everything about the house, and had her pick of two guestrooms. She didn't really know what to make of Tom Riddle, but she knew she could learn to like it in his house. She may not completely trust him yet, but she needed his help figuring out a way to her memories. And she had to admit, his manner improved greatly in the short time she knew him. Maybe he was a good guy. Maybe she just annoyed him because she disrupted his day and he softened up because he found out she had no one. What a suspicious mind she had to immediately think he only started to play nice because he had his own hidden agenda. The ministry official knew of him, his teacher apparently loved him and he's very smart. Hermione, you were too quick to judge him. Hermione.. that's her name!

"Tom," she called out to him. He appeared at her door, "What is it?"

"I just remembered that my name's Hermione," and she held out her hand for him to shake. "Thank you for opening your home to me, I know it takes a special person to do that." Her took her hand in his and held on for longer that she was used to. Those eyes..

"Hermione. What a beautiful name. And it's my pleasure, honey."

She didn't want to break the spell, but she forced herself to retract her hand anyway. She folded her arms behind her back and shyly fixed her gaze on the floor.

"Well, it's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Hermione."

If only they knew how entwined their lives already were.


End file.
